What Now?
by xhere.there.nowherex
Summary: Seriously. I feel like EPIC!FAIL right now. Third time's the charm, right? Post-finale. Obvoiusly POLIVIA! Definitely out of canon. Rated M because of chapter 2. IT IS FINISHED, YO! and now I feel like WIN!
1. Boston

**The finale OWNED. **

**This idea immediately popped into my head, because what will be up in the next chapter is something that I think about ALL THE TIME. **

**Plus, there was all that empty space between THE kiss and their arrival at the opera house, and I just had to take advantage of that...in the next chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy this!**

* * *

It was late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it. Quarter after four in the morning. Such an ungodly hour. He was walking around the Boston in which he grew up, it felt familiar and safe. He was just glad that it still was, unlike the Boston of the world in which he was born. He knew this city so well that although he was wandering the streets aimlessly, his feet knew where to go. His thoughts gathered in all at once, then simultaneously scattered amorphously in his mind. However, one thing was constant in his nebulous thought pattern: Olivia Dunham. His Olivia. She was just as equally his, as he was hers. "…you belong with me." Her voice echoed in his mind.

Their moment, the one he'd been waiting on for so long, the one they'd begun after their field trip to Jacksonville, he relived it. Every glorious second of it. He would never forget their moment. The way she unassuredly approached him, and hesitantly planted a tender, insecure kiss softly on his lips, as though she thought that he wouldn't reciprocate. The hand at the nape of his neck, holding on to him like he could disappear again, and the other one, on his chest, feeling his heart beating. How she pulled away, making sure that what was happening was real. Then she came back in for more, this time without apprehension. She was less inhibited, but still holding back, so he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her unyieldingly into him. He let her know that he wasn't going anywhere. She was right. He did belong with her. He was completely hers, and had been for some time. A wave of relief and fulfillment washed over him in her kiss, knowing that she felt just as deeply about him as he did about her.

Then he remembered what happened next. Followed by the car ride, and their discussion. She drove, just like she always did. He didn't mind. It felt familiar and very right to him. He watched her. Her eyes were focused on the road, and her hands gripped the wheel. Suddenly, her right hand left the wheel and grasped his left one. He had needed that and somehow, she had sensed it. She squeezed gently, letting him know that he had her. No matter what. She glanced at him momentarily, and told him, "You can stay with me. If you want?" He chuckled softly, raised her hand to his mouth, and planted a kiss on it. She smiled at him and then focused again on the road. He waited a minute before giving her an answer, "Olivia," he let out a heavy sigh, he couldn't believe he was about to turn her down, "Olivia, I can't. I need to work things out with Walter. It's going to take…time…" he trailed off, looking out the window. He heard her voice, "I know." She paused, he waited, and then she continued, "If you ever need to get out, away…" this time, she trailed off. "I know," he said, and he smiled at her. After a few minutes, he spoke again, "Olivia, I don't want anyone to know. Not yet, at least. I'm not ready to share this…" "Okay," she cut him off. He saw her swallow hard and heard her sigh. "I understand, Peter. It's okay." She was very earnest and he did not doubt her. She turned a corner and pulled her hand out from his. They were at the opera house.

When he snapped back to Boston, he came face to face with the door to apartment 2A. He wasn't surprised. Peter smiled to himself as he knocked on her door. Two minutes. No answer. "That is strange," he thought to himself. He knocked again. Three more minutes. Still no answer. What the hell? Maybe she was sleeping. He looked at his phone: 6:27AM. It was unlikely. He knew his Olivia. She wouldn't be sleeping. He called her. It rang several times then her voicemail picked up. Something was amiss. This was not like her. He pressed an ear to her door. For a moment, he felt a little bit like a stalker, but he didn't really care at this point. Nothing. It was completely silent inside her apartment. Where was she? He really needed her. To talk to her, to just see her. He was exhausted. He sank down into the floor and leaned against the wall. He folded his arms across his knees and lowered his head.

"Peter?" He heard a voice calling to him. "Peter?" He'd fallen asleep. "Hey babe," he said, sounding slightly more groggy than he'd have liked. She made a face. She looked a bit confused, and slightly shocked. His brow furrowed, and her expression warmed to him, but still, she looked…different. "Peter, what are you doing here?" she laughed nervously. He stood up. "You said anytime," he offered. "Oh," she said, crinkling her face and scratching her head, "right." She pulled out her key and opened the door, "Come in." She looked wrong. The look in her eyes was distant and cold, and her face looked burdened. "Hey," Peter said softly as he rested his hand on her shoulder, and drew her into a gentle kiss. After a second, he pulled back. She tasted bitter, and the way she kissed back was not anything like how his Olivia had kissed him. He panicked. How was this possible? How had they brought the wrong Olivia back with them? He cursed himself for not noticing the difference before they had made this devastating mistake. Where was his Olivia? He desperately wanted to know; however, he also realized that if he did this wrong, he could lose her forever. He instantly felt pain searing through his entire being. Peter was immediately certain that they had her, most likely locked up somewhere.

"What?" the wrong Olivia interrupted his panicking thoughts. He deflected, "Are you alright? You look upset." He cleared his throat, and swallowed his pain, part of which he was sure was the pain his Olivia was feeling. "Yeah," she said, "I'm fine." She smiled at him. "I, uh, I think I'm gonna go home now," he tried to sound as cool as possible, so as not to alarm the charlatan. "Alright," she said as he walked out her door, "bye, Peter." He knew exactly what it was he had to do. He would have to bide his time, and gleam as much information out of this woman as he possibly could. He'd have to be careful in making sure that neither he, nor Walter, Astrid, or anyone for that matter, gave this woman anything. He couldn't do this alone. He was going to need help. Peter dialed. Broyles answered. "We have a situation."


	2. Hell

**Okay, I know that this is a bit longer, but trust me, it is worth it.**

**I hope I did these two justice. I tried my best.**

**Not sure when I'll get to write my next chapter. I have a vague idea of where I want this to go.**

* * *

Darkness didn't even begin to describe it. What surrounded Olivia was a blackness the likes of which she had never seen in her entire life. It simultaneously enveloped her and sucked everything out of every ounce of her being. She sat in the corner, hugging her knees in the same position she'd been in every single day for… She stopped. How long had she been here? Long enough for her eyes to have adjusted to the blackness, enough that she could see. She glanced at the wall to her left. She had been marking her days. She was fed twice a day. Once in the morning, once in the evening. She felt like an animal, locked in a cage. At least it afforded her a means of tracking time, although she doubted it was very accurate.

So she looked at the wall, and read: 21 MAY 2010. She then saw all the tally marks she'd made, with her own blood. She'd had no other way to mark her time spent in this prison cell, which had become her own personal hell, so she'd bitten into her finger until she drew blood. She'd written the date so she would remember. Every morning since the first day, she'd bite her finger and make a single tally mark, signifying to no one but herself that she had made it through yet another day. She was surviving. Barely. She kept staring at the wall, at the numerous tally marks, afraid to count them just yet. She thought of Peter instead. The only reason she was still breathing was because of Peter. She had to get through this, so she could get back to Peter. Her Peter. Her faith in Peter never wavered. She knew that he would figure it out. She hoped that it would be before something happened between her alternate self and him. If it went that far before he noticed, she'd be upset, but she wouldn't hold it against him. She'd kill that bitch. He belonged to her. Peter would come for her. She knew he would. She wished he was here now. She rubbed her hands over her eyes and pushed them through her hair.

Again she looked to the wall with her tally marks. This time, she counted. Forty-seven. Forty-seven tally marks. Forty-seven days spent in this cell, alone, separated from Peter. Forty-seven godforsaken days in which she was repeatedly questioned, harassed, by the Secretary. She hadn't given him anything. She refused to answer his questions. In the beginning, she'd begged for her freedom. After she'd realized how futile her efforts were, she'd begun to just ignore his visits altogether. She might've given up on persuading him to let her go, but she wasn't entirely defeated. She would not give this man a single bit of information that could potentially harm the few people she loved. Rachel, Ella, Walter. Peter. Oh God, how she desperately longed for Peter. So, no, she had decided not to tell the Secretary anything that could help him or her impostor. It didn't stop him from coming every day to demand answers.

She was surprised that all he had done so far was to lock her away and try to extract information from her. He must know. He must. About her and Peter. The only reason that he wouldn't have harmed her was if he knew she'd be of some value to him, leverage to use against Peter. Bring him back here. His submission for her freedom. She would never let Peter do that. She crossed her arms over her knees, and lowered her head. However, she was immediately brought to her feet.

Forty-seven days. Oh, my God. She'd been in there for over a month now. When she comprehended what had just occurred to her she was hit with so many emotions that she couldn't stay still. She started pacing. Shit. God damn it, no. This cannot be happening. This most certainly cannot be happening to her. She thought about Peter again, about that night when she had kissed him. She remembered what had happened next.

She felt his arm wrap around her lower back as he drew her more tightly to him. Her body was pressed directly up against his, and yet she still didn't feel close enough. They remained like that for a few minutes. Until she needed more. So she deepened the kiss, decanting as much passion into it as she could. She teased his lips open and her tongue invaded his oral cavity. God he tasted so damn delicious. She couldn't get enough. She was delighted when his tongue returned the favor, and caressed hers lovingly with a passion nearly as fierce as her own. She teasingly brushed her hips up against his, and before she fully knew what she was doing, she was pressed hard into him, and he was backed up against the table.

Her hands found their way to his trousers. She began to undo the button, and as she unzipped his pants, he pulled away from her kiss. "Olivia? What are you doing?" He questioned her. She couldn't tell if it was because he didn't want to, or if he was trying to make sure that she actually knew what she was about to do. "Peter…" her voice was soft and deep, and filled with desperate desire. She looked him dead in the eye and couldn't have wanted him more if she'd tried. She watched his expression change. The pain that had been riddled all over his face left, and was replaced by desire. Desire for her. She could feel the heat growing between them, and was relieved when he began kissing her again.

His magnificent hands deftly removed the leather jacket that was not hers, and then pulled the shirt up over her head. She felt like a snake shedding its skin. She felt strange in the other one's clothing, and was glad when he removed them. She tugged at the waist of his pants, and they fell to the floor. He kicked his shoes off and the pants went with them. He had been planting affectionate kisses all over her neck, shoulders, and chest. She pushed him back to undo the buttons of his collared shirt. She felt his eyes studying her figure, and she could tell that he liked what he saw. She had never felt more beautiful before in her entire life. His hands moved to her belt and unbuckled it. The stolen cargo pants fell to the floor as her hands pulled his shirt from his body. She stepped out of the boots she was wearing and kicked the pants to the side.

Her hands splayed and began exploring his chest, shoulders, and back, all of which were now bare. His skin felt luscious beneath her fingertips. She pressed her lips into his again, wanting another taste of the man she was madly in love with. She felt his hands brush the straps of her black bra off of her shoulders, then travel to her back, unclasping it. It fell silently to the floor. He cupped her breasts in his hands and gently massaged them. His fingers brushed over her nipples and she let out a moan that caught in the back of her throat before escaping her mouth. A devilish grin graced his face as his tongue entered her mouth again, suppressing her moan and taking her breath away.

This was moving along a little too slowly for Olivia. They didn't have much time, and they'd already wasted ten minutes just undressing. She quickly removed her own panties before pulling his boxers down. He turned her around, picked her up, and set her down on the table. Gently, he leaned her back and climbed on top of her, staring so deeply into her eyes that she could feel it in her core. Typically, she was on top. She liked being in control. But with Peter, it was different. She was ready and willing to surrender herself completely to him. She spread her thighs and arched up into him, inviting him in, and she pulled him in for another passionate kiss.

She gasped loudly when he entered her, filling her so completely. Her entire body shuddered beneath him. Her hands caressed his chest and his tangled in her hair as he pulled back and then thrust into her. He was gentle at first, but gained momentum with each subsequent thrust into her, which felt like a burst of pleasure that radiated through her being. They were both panting heavily, and he thrust fully into her. Finally she felt the full power of the man who had been by her side for nearly two years, and she began moaning, unable to contain herself anymore. His rhythm increased. They were getting close. She vaulted up into him and clenched tightly around him, pulling him in as far as she could. He groaned loudly, gasping her name, which cause his name to escape her lips.

All at once, they released together in an explosion of the most intense pleasure either had ever experienced. It felt as though the fabric of both universes was crashing down onto them, and flowing through them. Olivia was nearly screaming, and Peter was making deep, sensual, guttural sounds that made Olivia want to scream even louder. He collapsed onto her, completely spent. He was gasping for air. Suddenly Olivia felt like her cells were going to catch fire. He brushed a hand across her forehead and into her hair. "Are you…alright?" he panted out, "You feel like you're on fire." Olivia lay there, and groaned as the table caught fire. She pushed him up off of her and he stood watching as she rolled off of the burning table, back into his arms. "Oh, God!" she exclaimed, "Peter, I'm so sorry!" "No, Liv. Are you okay?" He was wildly concerned for her wellbeing. She stared at him, a sultry look in her eyes, and told him, "Never been better." The grin on her lips would have been enough to kill him right then and there. He grinned back at her, and kissed her again.

She was greeted brashly by the blackness of her cell. Oh, God. Olivia pressed a hand to her forehead as she grimaced. She felt so irresponsible. She never should have let it go that far. She did not regret it at all, but she now realized that she should have waited. Her head was aching something terrible as she sat on the bench of her cell. Shit. She felt sick. Really, really sick. She began retching violently. Forty-seven days, and not on a single one of those days had she menstruated. So she sat there, shaking and crying, alone and pregnant in her cell. Now really wishing Peter was there.


	3. Out

**Here is chapter 3! Most of it was written around 1:00am...so please forgive any randomness.**

**I know where chapter 4 is going, I have it in my head. I'm not sure when I'll get to write it.**

**I promise to try and have it up by tonight.**

* * *

Come on Olivia. She thought to herself. Pull it together. You can do this. You are Olivia Dunham, F.B.I. Special Agent Olivia Dunham. You've handled worse than this. She breathed in and out heavily. Yeah right, she heard a voice in her head challenge her. How will you ever get yourself out of this? No. She countered. She could do this. She had to. Despite how absolutely terrified she was. And tired. She was so tired, all the time. When she wasn't sleeping she was peeing, or vomiting. She had to pee what felt to her like every fifteen minutes, and she had never been this ill in her lifetime. Not even while she'd had the flu as a child, nor after her first tequila experience on spring break with Rachel. She groaned. Let's not relive that again. Just thinking about it made her nauseous.

She tried to bite it back, but that only made it worse. She couldn't stop the bile that burned the back of her throat from coming out. When it had stopped, she felt slightly better. She took deep breaths in through her nose and exhaled out through her mouth, which seemed to help sometimes. Then she heard footsteps outside of her cell. Breakfast time. Day sixty-one. Two more weeks had passed, and here she still was, but she refused to give up hope. She could not let this man break her. She was stronger than that. A guard whom she had heard being called "Mike" by his co-workers slid a tray of food into her cell. God, she was so hungry all the time. But she couldn't keep anything down. She'd take a bite, swallow, and then five minutes later she'd be puking her guts out. She had actually lost weight in the last two weeks. She could tell from how the ugly grey jumpsuit she was wearing fit her more loosely.

The aroma of the food on the tray crawled up her nostrils, assaulting her olfactory senses. She closed her eyes, and her head ached. She began vomiting again, harder this time. Mike heard her. She heard him talking into his cuff. "Sir, there is a problem with prisoner 6227." Shit. "I'm not sure, sir. She seems to be ill, sir." He waited for an answer. "Yes, sir. Right away, sir." The light in her cell flickered on and the door was opened. Mike loomed over her. "Get up," he ordered. A hand instinctually went defensively to her abdomen. She didn't move. "I said get up," his tone was harsh. He grabbed her by her arm and stood her up, which made her feel lightheaded. She closed her eyes against the spinning room. She was beyond afraid. What if they found out about the baby? Her baby. Peter's baby.

* * *

"Peter? Are you alright?" Astrid questioned him softly. She had pulled him aside. He looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot, and the bags beneath them told her that he wasn't getting much sleep, if any. Peter stared at her. They were alone; he felt she could be trusted. "No," he told her, "not remotely." Concern scrawled across her face, "What's wrong, Peter?" He nodded in Olivia's direction, "That's not Olivia." "What?" Astrid stated in disbelief. "We brought back the wrong Olivia. I don't know where she is," Peter was near tears. Astrid clasped her hands over her mouth and took several deep breaths. So this is why Peter had been uncharacteristically cautious around the Olivia out in the lab with Walter, and had made sure that both she and Walter told her very little.

"My God, Peter, it's been two months. Have you told anyone about this yet, other than me?" Astrid's tone conveyed slight panic. "Yeah, Broyles knows. We've agreed that it's best not to rush this, not to scare her. We don't know where they're keeping Olivia. He's hoping to eventually have this one backed into a corner so we can get information from her. I don't know. I think he's waiting too long." Peter sounded so broken. Something occurred to her, and she had to ask, "Peter, did something happen? Between you and Olivia? Over there?" Peter looked at her. "What made you…how did you…" Peter trailed off. Astrid couldn't help the tiny laugh that escaped her, "Oh, come on, Peter. It's pretty obvious how you two have felt about each other for a long time now. So, what happened?" "She kissed me," Peter's hand went to his forehead. "And that was it?" Astrid doubted it. Peter looked out a window. "Oh my God. Did you…did you two…" Astrid didn't have to finish that question. Peter simply nodded. "Oh jeez," Astrid sighed.

"Bishop!" Peter heard Broyles deep voice boom as he entered the office of the lab. Peter merely looked at him. "Will you excuse us, Agent Farnsworth?" He dismissed Astrid. "Yes, sir," Astrid said. As she left, she rubbed Peter's arm and told him, "It will be okay, Peter. You'll find her." Broyles watched Astrid return to assisting Walter in the lab, and then he looked to Peter. "You told her?" Broyles sounded displeased. "I had to. She asked. She could tell that something wasn't right," Peter answered. Broyles half rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, "Fine." He continued, "Massive Dynamic thinks that they've found a way to successfully open a door to get over to the other side." Peter perked up when he heard what Broyles had said. "Really? Have they tested it yet?" Peter was clearly anxious. "Yes, the last several tests were successful…" Peter marched out of the room leaving Broyles mid-sentence. He had heard all he needed to hear.

Before she knew what hit her, the wrong Olivia's back came into contact with the hard wall of the lab as Peter slammed her into it. Walter watched frantically. Astrid pulled him away from the skirmish that was taking place between Peter and the woman pretending to be their Olivia. "I'll explain later, Walter," Astrid told him as she tugged him out of the lab and into the office as Broyles exited it, shutting the door behind him. Broyles had to pull Peter off of the woman amidst a fury of flying fists. "I know who you are," Peter shouted at the Olivia that was not his. Broyles let go and proceeded to handcuff the woman. He spoke huskily to her, "We've got some questions for you."

Peter watched through the glass as Broyles questioned the alternate Olivia. She sat there, smirking at him, mouth glued shut, with a sinister look in her eyes. She couldn't complete what she'd been ordered to do. She had failed her mission. Consequently, she was refusing to give them anything. Peter couldn't take it anymore. He stormed into the interrogation room. "Where is my Olivia," Peter demanded forcefully. She chortled at him, "You know, you're worse than she was." Peter's face contorted, "What do you mean?" She laughed again shaking her head, "She came to me, looking for you. You should have seen the look on her face. Pathetic." Peter winced. She looked at Broyles, "So, uh, you can either kill me or let me go now because you're not gettin' anything from me."

Her face was cold and hard, and her eyes were void of any detectable human emotion. Peter stared her straight in the eye. He was tired of waiting. God only knows what was being done to his Olivia. He was going back over to get her. He'd find her. He didn't need this woman's help. He had to find her. He got in her face, and spoke in a low tone, "After I'm done with you, you'll wish you were dead, sweetheart." He thought he saw a flash of fear flicker in her eyes. Then he got the call. "Peter, I think you should come back to the lab now," Astrid spoke urgently, "I think your father has come up with a way to find Olivia."


	4. Somewhere Else

**This would have been up sooner, but I feel asleep in the middle of the day. I am going to be busy, so chapter 5 might not be up until very late tomorrow (5/25). I know where it is going, so have no fear, it will not take too long!**

**Anyway, I hope you're all enjoying this! **

* * *

The car door slammed shut behind him. He practically ran across the campus, pushing past several disgusted students, some of whom groaned or grumbled at him. He ignored them. He burst through the lab doors, startling both Astrid and Walter. "How do we find her?" he demanded. He was fuming. He was still angry at himself for not noticing, he hated that the other Olivia wouldn't answer their questions, and he was furious that he'd had to wait to get his Olivia back. He didn't get an answer, so he asked again, "How do we find her?" Walter and Astrid exchanged glances. "Explain. Now." Peter was beyond impatient.

Astrid let out a shaky breath, "While you were gone…after you left… Walter came up with a way to find you. By using objects that came from the other universe when Newton brought that building over, he was able to build a device that could read the energy signature that is emitted in the glimmer of those objects. Because you produce that same energy signature, we were going to use it to isolate your glimmer to find you." Astrid paused, letting Peter absorb what she'd just told him. After a minute, he responded, "Okay, so, how is this supposed to help me find Olivia?" Astrid looked at Walter, "Walter?" She was going to let him explain this one.

Peter stared at Walter. Walter averted his eyes, evading his gaze. "Because Olivia is from this universe, she in theory should emit a specific glimmer unique to this side. This would essentially be distinguishable from the energy emitted from the other side." Walter stopped. Astrid picked up where he'd left off, "Walter thinks that he can modify the device so that he could read Olivia's specific energy signature." Walter cut back in, "It would, however, require several of Olivia's personal items." Peter's elbows rested on the lab table, and his head was in his hands. He sighed heavily. The closer he got to finding Olivia, the further he felt from her.

He returned to the lab with a box of Olivia's personal belongings more quickly than he should have. Astrid knew that he must have been speeding, not that she blamed him. She was becoming more frantic herself. She didn't want to think of what they might be doing to Olivia over there. She'd seen glimpses of the man that Walter had once been, and imagining the other Walter scared her somewhere deep down inside. She shuddered. Peter handed the box to Walter, "Please, be careful with her things." Walter looked at Peter. Astrid saw realization dawning on Walter's face. He was about to digress into a conversation with Peter about there being something going on between him and Olivia. "Walter, let's get started," she focused him on the task at hand, finding their Olivia.

After a few tedious hours of Walter tinkering away at his handcrafted device, with Peter helping and Astrid occasionally aiding them, it was ready. As Peter stared at the finished device, a flash of hope crossed his face. He half-smiled at Walter, proud that the man had been able to build this. However, Walter's expression was less confident. "What?" Peter asked him. He looked at Peter, "I'm afraid that the device will not be able to read Olivia's signature from this side. In order to find her using this, it will have to be operated on the other side." Walter frowned. Gene let out a low, dull "moooo". "That won't be a problem," Peter told them, "Massive Dynamic has a way of opening a door to cross over. If we transport the device to one of their labs, I can bring it over and use it to find Olivia." Walter opened his mouth, to tell Peter he would go with him, but Peter cut him off, "No, I've got to do this alone. It's my fault that she is stuck over there. I'm the one who is going to bring her back. Now, help me load this thing into the car."

* * *

Mike the prison guard held her arms behind her back as he perp-walked her down the hall. Apparently she wasn't moving fast enough for him, so he shoved her, and she stumbled. "Hey, watch it!" She snapped at him with a glare. If looks could kill, he would have been dead on the spot. She writhed beneath his grip, but he only tightened it and pressed her onward. He led her out through the doors, and the brilliant light cascading through the New York City skyline blinded her. She blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to daylight once again.

She surveyed the city surrounding her. It looked different than the New York she'd known from her world. She wished that she was there instead of here. She turned her head to assess the building in which she'd been kept in. It was ugly and grey, a monstrosity of architectural chaos. She hoped that this style would never catch on in her universe. Then she heard it. The sound of the chopper's blades slowly churning the air. Concern fleeted in the back of her mind, but she would not let it show. She was more angry than she was frightened, and for a moment, she thought that she saw a spark of trepidation cross Mike's face.

"Get in," he ordered as he pushed her into the helicopter. She hated how he manhandled her. It was degrading. She elbowed him hard in the ribs for the hell of it, and was pleased as he stood there, doubled over in pain, huffing. He pushed her into a seat, and she went to kick him, but he grabbed her ankle and threw her leg back down. He plunked down into a seat across from her. "So where are you taking me," she asked indignantly. He didn't give her an answer. He just glanced at her, teeth clenched, nostrils flared, and eyes full of contempt. She laughed bitterly at him, as her eyes shifted to the window. She'd gotten to him. He'd probably never been beaten by a female before. This satisfied her somewhat, and she proceeded to watch the city pass by below. Until the illusion of moving buildings made her nauseous and she began vomiting again.

She watched as they approached the Statue of Liberty, which was still copper colored. It was still weird for her to see it without the green patina. Olivia heard Mike speaking into his cuff again, "Let the Secretary know the prisoner has arrived. We'll be touching down within the next few minutes." After they had landed, Mike heaved Olivia out of the helicopter and she staggered. When she regained her posture, she was greeted by the Secretary and his men. "Mr. Wyman," he addressed Mike, "if you are not more careful with her, you'll be placed in a cell yourself." "Yes, Mr. Secretary," his grip on her went slack and she twisted out of from it. "Bring her in," he ordered, as he turned. Mike obeyed, following him in, guiding her this time by her arm.

The Secretary took a seat and waited for her to do the same. She didn't sit. "Olivia, please, have a seat. You look tired," he instructed her. She refused to move. He glanced at Mike, who moved her into the seat. "Leave us," he told him. While Olivia held a strong distaste for the prison guard, she did not wish to be left alone with this man. She cringed when she heard the door shut behind him. She felt his eyes on her, and she met his stare with an icy one of her own. He finally spoke to her, "It has been brought to my attention that you've become quite ill recently." She sat perfectly motionless, concentrating all of her energy on keeping every single one of her muscles still. When she didn't respond, he went on, "You've also been urinating more frequently." She saw a quick smile flicker across his lips, but again she remained static.

"You've had sex with my son, haven't you? That's why he agreed to return to your side. You love him." His tone mocked her, and a quick flash of pain crossed her face. However, she quickly regained her stoicism, and retorted, "He loves me back." "Oh, really? Then where is he? You think he'd have come for you by now, would have noticed the difference between you and my agent, if he truly cared for you." He was trying to find her pressure point, so he could break her, but she was stronger than he was. "You don't know him like I do," she bit back.

Whatever amusement he'd had in his arrogant assumption immediately dissipated with her statement. She smiled wickedly to herself, and she could see his distaste. Despite his antipathy towards whatever she held over his son, he continued, "I'm having you transferred to a better 'facility', if you will," he chuckled slightly at this, "I think you'll be more comfortable there, given your condition." So he knew. It made her feel ill. She vomited again, all over his desk. She fought the smile that her lips so desperately wanted to draw themselves into. The look of horror on his face lasted mere moments, before he informed her, "We have medication for that here. Also, you look pale. Before I have you moved, you'll be tested for anemia and treated for it if necessary, as well as the nausea." She couldn't resist asking, "Why do you care?" He opened his mouth, and she was surprised that he was actually going to give her an answer, until she heard it and realized how sinister his intentions truly were, "Because, dear, the child you're carrying is genetically similar to my son. Part of its DNA is the same. Aside from that, can you imagine, a child born of two separate universes? The immense power and energy it would wield! I need the child."


	5. Places

"Bishop, where are you?" Peter heard Broyles ask over the phone. "On my way to Massive Dynamic. Walter found a way to locate Olivia, he built a device. It has to be used on the other side. I'm going to get her." Peter didn't ask. He stated it as fact. He heard Broyles sigh, "You're not going to need it. She cracked. She's given us the GPS coordinates of the building in which Dunham is being held." Peter was surprised. His Dunham never would have cracked so soon, or so easily. Broyles continued, "I'll meet you at Massive Dynamic. I don't recommend that you do this alone, Bishop." Peter swallowed. "You have a better idea?" He knew Broyles did, but he was done waiting to get Olivia. He knew Broyles would have liked to prepare a team to go and retrieve Dunham, but she was his responsibility. He was the one who was supposed to protect her from these types of situations. He had failed, and he needed to correct it on his own. He closed the phone on Broyles and pushed down harder on the gas pedal.

"Peter?" Nina Sharp's startled voice uttered. She had nearly jumped out her skin as he came bursting through the doors to her office, followed by Walter and Astrid, and later Broyles. "I need to get over there," Peter told her. "What's going on?" She looked questioningly at Broyles. "Our Dunham has been taken into custody over on the other side. They sent their Dunham here to gather information, and bring Peter back in order to start a war. That's all I got out of her," Broyles explained briskly to Nina. "So you want to open a door, to get her back," Nina spoke cautiously, trying to feel out the situation. "Yeah, that's the idea," Peter was irritated. What if she wasn't okay? What if they had hurt her? He would never forgive himself. "Fine," Nina was terse, "come with me." She exited her lofty office, walked down the hall, and boarded an elevator. They followed her.

The elevator doors opened into a brilliantly white lab. They were greeted by an eager Brandon. His enthusiasm was obvious in the way he bounced when he walked. He spoke rapidly, looking at Nina, "So, we are really going to do this?" He couldn't hide the excitement in his voice. He was like a child with a fresh ten dollar bill in a candy store. Peter shook his head. For a split second, he wondered what it would be like to have a child, to be a parent. He doubted Olivia would want children, after she'd seen how horrible things were becoming between the worlds. He wouldn't blame her. He dismissed the thought as Nina answered Brandon, "Yes, we're sending Peter over."

Brandon spun on his heels and began switching on dials and pressing several buttons, calibrating the machine that Massive Dynamic had created to open a small, temporary door between the universes. It had Brandon's design signature all over it, and he wore a look of sheer enchantment on his face as the machine flickered to life. It was his baby. He was proud of it. Peter thought of Olivia again. His beautiful Olivia. She would make a good mother, she would have adorable children. He told himself to stop it. He needed to focus on getting her back, saving her.

Broyles handed him a paper thin device that looked like nothing he'd ever seen. He listened as Broyles explained that they'd collected it as evidence when they'd arrested the alternate Olivia. He handed Peter a piece of paper with Olivia's coordinates on it to enter into the locating device. "So, where are you keeping the other one?" Nina asked Broyles. He replied, "I had her transferred to Rikers Island." "Dear God, Phillip, you know what will happen to her there!" Not that Nina was concerned; she was just stating a fact. Peter had heard of the prison. The woman who had pretended to be his Olivia was in for one tough ride. He smirked as he stepped through the door, crossing over to the other side once again, to rescue his Olivia.

Once he was on the other side, he turned the alternate Olivia's GPS device on. He plugged in his Olivia's coordinates. The name of a detention facility flashed on the screen, along with an address. He swallowed his guilt, found the nearest vehicle, jumpstarted it, and reached the prison where she was supposed to be in record time. Getting in wasn't a problem for him. He frantically drew up the shades covering each cell. Not Olivia. Moving on. Not Olivia. Moving on. Again, not Olivia. He had checked them all. Damn it. Alternate Olivia had lied. He suddenly wished he'd brought Walter's device with him. "Peter? Peter Bishop?" He froze, instantly recognizing the voice of Charlie Francis. He turned around. "What are you doing?" Charlie asked. "I want her back," Peter demanded. He drew the gun he was now very glad he'd brought with him. "Where is she?" he was so angry. "Whoa," he heard Charlie say. He looked into Peter's eyes. He did not doubt for a second that Peter wouldn't hesitate to shoot him if he didn't tell him where Olivia was. He felt backed into a corner, so he had no choice but to tell Peter, "They moved her. I don't know where and I don't know why. That was two days ago. I will give you twenty eight minutes before I alert Fringe Division." Peter took off. He knew of only one person who could help him now.

Olivia woke up in a bed. She felt very disoriented, and she sat up quickly. Too quickly. Her head throbbed and the room spun gently. She lay back down, and thought to herself. She noticed that she had glowing red bands around both her wrists and her ankles. They made a slight buzzing sound. She realized that they must be some sort of electronic device that would not allow her to leave wherever she was. The last thing she had remembered was the hospital. The medicine they gave her for her nausea, and the iron pills they'd given her for the anemia, which she did in fact have. She also remembered a rather large and distasteful vitamin. She remembered that Rachel had to take a similar vitamin while she was pregnant with Ella. She groaned and rolled over onto her side. She inhaled deeply. She wasn't expecting the scent that caressed her sense of smell. The pillow, the sheets, they smelled like Peter. She breathed out, and then in again. They smelled distinctly like Peter. She began crying for the first time in a few weeks.

She heard light footsteps outside of her door, and quickly wiped the tears from her face. She gathered herself together and sat up, preparing for the worst. The door creaked open, and an older woman who looked worn entered. Olivia looked at her. Something about her seemed familiar. It took her several seconds to place it. This must be Peter's mother. This must be the Secretary's home. She must be in Peter's room. This must be the bed he slept in while he was here. She knew the Secretary had done this intentionally, to play with her emotions. She wanted to cry again. She cursed her hormones for making her uncharacteristically emotional.

Peter's mother crossed the room and sat on the bed. "Come," she said, "you should eat." She took Olivia by the hand and pulled her out of bed. It was only then that Olivia noticed the lounge pants and camisole that had replaced the grey jumpsuit. She was thankful to be out of that wretched thing. Olivia stood for a minute, trying to balance herself. Elizabeth led her to the kitchen and sat her down at the table. Olivia looked at the spread of medications in front of her. "You should take those, they'll help you to stay healthy," Elizabeth spoke to her. Her tone was tinged with pain, and contempt. Olivia did not doubt that this woman held at least some disdain for the woman who'd successfully stolen her son away from her for the second time. Olivia remembered the Secretary's words, "I need the child." She was beginning to understand Elizabeth's pain. She tried not to think about it, but she couldn't stop. She fought hard against the tears that were welling up behind her eyes, but they spilled silently out and streamed down her cheeks. She popped the pills into her mouth, raised the glass of water to her lips, and swallowed.


	6. In His Arms

Elizabeth placed a plate down in front of Olivia, and took a seat next to her. She sat there, just watching Olivia. Olivia again wiped the tears from her face. She stared at the plate. Pancakes. She loved pancakes. But she didn't feel very hungry. She kept thinking about Peter, and about her baby. The baby that they wanted to take away from her. She looked at Peter's mother. She didn't know what to say. Elizabeth spoke to her again, "Might I ask you something?" Olivia nodded. "Why did he go back?" Elizabeth's voice cracked. She was holding back tears. Olivia looked down, and then back up at Elizabeth before finally telling her, "He came back," she paused, "to be with me." Tears pooled in Olivia's eyes again. Elizabeth simply nodded her head, and looked at the plate, "You should eat."

Suddenly, Olivia was hungry. Really, really hungry. She ate everything on her plate, and when she was finished, she stood up and went to the sink. She started washing her plate, and Elizabeth was soon beside her. "I'll take care of it," Elizabeth said, but Olivia just shook her head and continued washing the plate. She shut the water off when she was done, and closed her eyes trying to think of anything other than Peter. That was shot to hell when Elizabeth asked her, "Do you love him? Do you love my son?" "Yes, I do. Very much." Olivia did not hesitate in answering. "Why?" Elizabeth's voice was soft. Olivia realized that she needed to know what her son was like. She looked away, trying to decide where to begin, to do him justice.

"He is a good man. He's strong, and he's brave. He's wickedly intelligent, and has a quick wit. He can be cocky, and arrogant, and he's not afraid to challenge me. He's always been there for me; sometimes he's overprotective, but he means well. I trust him; I can talk to him about anything. He listens. He doesn't judge. I like that he feels he can do the same with me. We're very close. He takes care of me. We take care of each other." Olivia paused, and added, "At least, we used to." She let out a shaky breath, and looked at Elizabeth, who was now crying. Olivia placed a hand gently on her shoulder, to comfort her. Elizabeth half stated, half asked, "He would have died if he'd stayed over here." Olivia nodded, and drew Elizabeth into an embrace. Peter's mother sobbed into Olivia's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Olivia whispered into Elizabeth's ear. When she had calmed down somewhat, she pulled away. "You cannot possibly understand what I've been through, you cannot imagine what it is like to have your child taken from you," Elizabeth's voice was filled with pain and sadness. "Yes, I can," Olivia contradicted. Elizabeth tilted her head, and confusion planted itself on her face, "How?" Elizabeth sounded somewhat exasperated. Olivia looked at her, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed, "Wait, he didn't tell you?" "Who didn't tell me? What?" Elizabeth still looked perplexed. "Your husband. He didn't tell you that I am pregnant?" Olivia expounded. "No," Elizabeth retorted, "he told me he moved you here because you were ill. He didn't tell me why you were ill. He said to take care of you. I didn't want to. Part of me hates you." Olivia cut in, "I understand." Elizabeth's gaze shot to Olivia's. Elizabeth breathed in and then out, "Is it Peter's baby?" Olivia nodded, "Yes. Your husband says that he needs the baby." "Dear God," Elizabeth cupped her face in her hands.

She was now in a very difficult position. She had been through the loss of her own child. She knew what it was like. As much as she was upset that this woman had been able to take Peter away from her again, she did not wish for her to experience the loss of her child. Peter's child. She couldn't let her husband take Peter's child away from him and this woman. She watched Olivia, and noticed that she looked lightheaded. Her fist was pressed to her forehead. She sucked in a breath, and spoke gently to Olivia, "Why don't you go outside? Get some fresh air?" She led Olivia to the sliding glass door, and watched as she walked down to the edge of the patio, staring out into the water.

As Elizabeth shut the sliding glass door behind Olivia, she heard a knock on the front one. She turned, and hastened to answer it. When she opened the door, she was shocked to see the face behind the knock. "Mom…" his voice came out unsteady. He looked like hell. She could tell that he hadn't been sleeping, and it was clear from his bloodshot eyes that he'd been crying. "Peter," she hugged him. He squeezed her tightly. "Mom, I need your help." She let him in the house, and rubbed his arm lovingly. "You're looking for Olivia," she told him. He looked at her, bewildered, wondering how she knew. She shook her head, "Don't worry, Peter. She's here." "Here? At the house?" he asked his mother anxiously. She smiled softly at him. "Yes," she pointed, "she's just out there." He looked out the enormous glass windows to the patio where he'd shared breakfast with his mother over two months ago. There she was. There was his Olivia, beautiful as ever. He watched as the wind tousled her hair gently, and the sun illuminated her.

He ran. "Olivia!" he called out to her. She turned instantly, and her knees went weak. She gripped the ledge behind her. "Peter…" she muttered. She couldn't believe he was really there, that he'd finally found her. She hadn't seen him in over two months. She started crying. "Peter," she whimpered out as her arms wrapped around his neck and his wound around her waist. "Peter," she said again, as though saying his name made him more real. He embraced her securely in his arms, and pulled her into him, "I'm here, Livia. I'm here now. You're safe. I've got you." She felt so safe and protected in his arms. "Hi, Peter," she breathed out. First their eyes met, and then their lips, in a passionate kiss filled with all the longing, pain, and desperation that had built up in each of them over the past two months. They stood there for several minutes wrapped up in their kiss.

Peter pulled away gently. He asked her frantically, "Olivia, are you alright? Did they hurt you?" She shook her head, "No, Peter. They didn't hurt me, physically." He looked slightly relieved. She let out a heavy breath, "Peter, there is something that I need to tell you." He tugged her by the hand and pulled her to the house, "It can wait Olivia. We've got to get out of here. We have to leave, now." "But Peter…" she started. He cut her off, "Olivia." She decided that now was not the best time to argue with him, let alone spring news on him. He got her dressed and was tugging her towards the door to leave.

She stopped him. "Peter, wait." She remembered her restraints. She held up her wrists. "I can't leave, not while I've still got these." He looked from Olivia, to her wrists, and then back to Olivia. Elizabeth cut in, "I have a key." She shuffled through a door and dug out an unusual looking tool. She proceeded to free Olivia from her restraints. "Come on," Peter beckoned to Olivia. Olivia looked at Peter, and then at Elizabeth. "Peter, we cannot leave her here. She's letting me go. They'll be furious with her." She spoke to Elizabeth, "Come with us." Elizabeth was about to protest. "Please, it would be safer for you," Olivia implored. Olivia and Elizabeth both looked to Peter. He nodded, concurring with Olivia that it was a better alternative to leaving her here. Then all three left the house that both Peter and Olivia hoped to never see again. Elizabeth turned to look at her home one last time.

* * *

**Alrighty! I finished chapter five, and then chapter six sort of just poured out of me.**

**So, you lovely people get two chapters instead of just one =) Because I love you and all your amazing reviews!**

**Anyway, I have a really busy day tomorrow (and GLEE is on as I'm typing this) so Chapter 7 may not be up for a while.**

**Also, I am going to try to make 7 my final chapter.**

**So, enjoy this while it lasts!**


	7. Safe

**Here it is! THE FINAL CHAPTER. _dun dun dun dun!_ **

**I am really sorry it took so long to get this up here, but I was really busy because of my sister's birthday, and she is the Rachel to my Olivia, so you all know how that is. I love her to pieces.**

**Also, I apologize for how long this chapter is, but it is the final one. Kudos to whomever figures out why I only made it seven chapters...(hint: it has to do with the lame/crazy/weird chapter titles) **

**Oh, I would also like to apologize for the Walternate scene, because I really am not a huge fan of conflict and try to avoid it at all costs in RL...however I do love watching it. I hope what I've written satisfies you.**

**And yes, I could not resist throwing you all another bone (literally) so I hope you enjoy that as well ;)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Elizabeth," Olivia tugged on Peter's mother's hand, "Come on. We have to go." Peter watched as Olivia linked arms with his mother and urged her on. Elizabeth looked into Olivia's eyes and saw the frenzy behind them. She turned away from her home, and the three moved forward. They didn't get far before they were greeted with blaring sirens and the whirring of helicopters. There, amidst about one hundred members of his military, stood the Secretary. He was smirking in disdain.

"You didn't really think you'd get out this easily, did you dear?" He taunted Olivia. She shot back, "I'd have been disappointed if that were the case." The Secretary waved his hand and his men raised their weapons. Olivia defensively stepped in front of Peter and Elizabeth. Peter grabbed her arm, "Olivia." She shot him a look that indicated that he should not argue with her, "He won't harm me." Peter looked confused but he trusted her, so he didn't press her further. "You have something that I want, and you're not going anywhere until I get it." His voice was sinister and cold. "Walter," Elizabeth pleaded with her husband, "please, this is madness. You have to stop." She was at her breaking point, riddled with pain over her twice lost son, and the monster she had watched her husband turn into.

"How can you be so weak, Liz? I thought you were stronger than this," his tone was harsh and full of contempt at her betrayal. He moved towards them, to retrieve Olivia. Elizabeth had had enough. She had suffered long enough at the hands of this man, whom she no longer loved. Before she knew what she was doing, she had taken the gun Peter had stashed behind his back, aimed it at her husband, and pulled the trigger. The bullet lodged in her husband's chest. He fell to the ground, and was dead within moments. She was shaking, and tears began streaming down her face. The Secretary's men became infuriated at his death, and began firing. Elizabeth heard Olivia's voice, "Run."

They took off into the trees as fast as they could, but the Secretary's men were quicker. Just as another shot was fired, Peter stepped in front of his mother. The bullet struck, causing its victim to fall to his knees. "Peter!" Olivia was screaming, crouching next to him. "Oh my God! Peter! Peter!" She looked frantically into his eyes, and whispered in a quavering voice, "Peter?" He met her eyes and reassured her in a gruff, low voice, "It's just my arm. I'll be fine." She nodded. She was livid. She turned to the men chasing after them in the woods. She felt the heat of her anger boiling within her. She remembered Walter telling her that once, as a child, she'd started a fire with her mind. She remembered Sally Clark, and how she'd done the same on the bridge two months earlier. She remembered how the table on which she and Peter had consummated their love had caught fire. Olivia focused the energy of her heat out, and away from the people she was trying so hard to protect. Peter watched her. He realized what she was trying to do. He took her hand. All at once the men and the trees surrounding them were ablaze. Elizabeth watched on in astonishment.

"How are we going to get out of here?" Elizabeth asked hysterically. "Me. I can open a door," Olivia stated in a very matter-of-fact manner. Peter grabbed her arm, "Are you sure? Do you even have enough energy left?" Olivia smiled to herself. She again recalled the Secretary's words, _"Aside from that, can you imagine, a child born of two separate universes? The immense power and energy it would wield!"_ It had occurred to her that it was possible that she might be able to harness the energy of the child growing in her womb. "Oh, I think I can manage," she told Peter. He noticed something behind her eyes, something that he couldn't place. He decided on figuring it out later, after they were home. Without saying anything further, Olivia drew Peter and Elizabeth closer to her, holding onto both tightly. She closed her eyes and concentrated on where she wanted all three of them to be. Her mind focused on images of her New York, her universe. She heard a loud crack, and felt a bright flash of light behind her closed eyes. When she opened them, she was greeted with the familiarity of her own world. She breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. Then she looked at Peter.

He was pale, his breath was ragged, and he looked incredibly faint. Her gaze met the whole in his left arm, created by the bullet. He had lost a lot of blood. He was still losing a lot of blood. She deftly unbuttoned his shirt and ripped a strip off from it. She had to try to stop his bleeding. She watched as he clenched his teeth and winced in pain as she bandaged his wound as best she could. Her hand cupped his face, "You're going to be okay, Peter." She softly kissed his cheek. "Come on," she instructed, "We have to get you to a hospital." She helped him up, "Can you walk alright?" He nodded, but staggered. Olivia wrapped an arm around him supporting him. She saw Elizabeth do the same, and heard her say to her son, "Come on, Peter. Let's go."

Olivia felt as though they'd been walking forever when they finally reached one of the busy streets of New York. She could feel Peter growing weaker as more of his weight pressed down into her with each subsequent step. It took only seconds to hail the cab of a concerned driver. Olivia placed Peter in the car, and Elizabeth slid in next to him. She shut the door and walked around to the other side of the cab. She was about to tell the cab driver to head to the nearest hospital, but Peter cut her off in a rough, but weedy, voice. "Massive Dynamic," he told the driver. He knew that his father would still be there, along with Astrid. He'd only been gone about an hour and forty-one minutes. He also knew that Massive Dynamic had state of the art medical facilities, so he figured this would kill two birds with one stone. The driver looked to Olivia. She looked at Peter who told her, "Trust me." So she nodded her head in concurrence, and the driver started his cab.

The cab lurched as it took off down the bustling street of New York City, and Olivia's stomach somersaulted. She thought for a moment she was going to be sick, but then she felt Peter's head on her shoulder and she forgot about it. Her arm naturally wrapped around him, trying to comfort him, carefully avoiding his injured arm. His breathing was growing fainter with each passing minute. She kissed the top of his head, and he heard her whisper shakily, "You have to be okay, Peter. Please. I love you." He smiled, and his right hand stroked her thigh. "You know, I wanted to say it first, and now you've gone and stolen my thunder," he said softly with a quiet laugh. He felt her laughter against his tired body. He leaned up and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek. "You're cheesy, you know that?" She teased him. "Fine," he coughed as he said this, and Olivia's demeanor grew serious again. He wished that she would relax. He knew that he would be fine. He took her hand in his, "I love you too." He watched as she began to cry silently, staring out the window. He has to be fine. He will be fine. She hoped he would.

Massive Dynamic. Olivia stared at the impressive logo of the building that was looming as they approached. She looked down at Peter. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was shallow and uneven. She drew in a shaky breath, and released it. "What is this place?" Elizabeth asked softly. Olivia looked at her. She didn't know how to explain it, so she said, "I think the better question is, what isn't it?" The cab driver pulled up to the curb to let his passengers out. Olivia went to gently nudge Peter, but his eyes were already open. He hadn't been sleeping after all, just resting. He looked like he was fading fast. "Let's go, Peter," she pulled him out of the cab and walked him to the sidewalk. Elizabeth stood on the sidewalk and shivered as she crossed her arms. This place, this world, felt so foreign to her. Peter stumbled again and Olivia buckled slightly under his weight. Elizabeth took to his side again, and she and Olivia helped him through the door.

Nina's assistant had alerted her that three high priority individuals had arrived outside of Massive Dynamic, and she wasted no time in getting to the lobby to greet them, tailed by Walter and Astrid. "Oh my God, Agent Dunham, what's happened?" Nina spoke with more concern than Olivia had ever heard from her. "Peter's been shot," Olivia was near tears again and speaking frenetically, "he needs medical attention. Now!" Nina had a team of doctors in the lobby within seconds. They hoisted Peter onto a gurney and began wheeling him away. "Peter?" Walter muttered, moving towards him. Olivia walked by his side, and as they wheeled him through a door, one of the doctors forced her to stay. "No," she protested, "I have to go with him. Please. Peter? Peter!" The doctor refused, and she heard Peter faintly say, "I'm gonna be fine, Liv." However, the concerned looks on the faces of the doctors indicated otherwise. They disappeared behind the doors.

Nina escorted the four individuals into a waiting area on the twenty-eighth floor. Astrid placed Walter in a chair, and sat next to him. Olivia began pacing, but she became dizzy. She pushed her palm into her forehead and drew her fingers through her hair, and her she placed her other hand on her abdomen. She sat next to Elizabeth, who was silently studying Walter. When she felt Olivia's presence next to her, Elizabeth looked at her. Her head was still in her hand, and now her other was gently caressing her abdomen. She was trying to calm herself. Elizabeth took her hand and rubbed her arm. Astrid watched, wondering who the woman was, she had an idea about who she was, but she couldn't be sure. She was about to ask Walter, when he murmured, guilt-ridden, "This is all my fault, isn't it?"

"Walter," Elizabeth spoke to the man who was not her husband, "no." Olivia's head shot up and she glanced from Walter, then to Elizabeth, and back to Walter. Walter had been so wrapped up in his dying son and his own guilt that he hadn't even noticed she was there. "Elizabeth," he whispered. So she had been right. Astrid had guessed that the worn looking woman was Peter's mother. She stood, and crossed the room, taking a seat next to the broken man. She thought to herself how different he was from her husband. He reminded her of the man she'd originally fallen in love with. He was no longer arrogant, trying to rule the world. He was there for his family, these people with whom he worked. Nina was standing back, just watching. Olivia saw her out of the corner of her eye. Olivia agreed with Elizabeth, "Walter, this is not your fault, entirely." She paused before she'd added that last word. Astrid felt awkward sitting next to Walter and Elizabeth, so she got up and sat next to Olivia.

"Are you alright, Olivia?" Astrid was genuinely concerned. Olivia nodded and sighed heavily. Astrid paused before she explained to Olivia, "You know, Peter told me. About what happened. Between the two of you. Over there." Olivia looked up at Astrid incredulously. She hadn't thought Peter would have told anyone. Suddenly, Olivia looked very green. It suddenly and unpleasantly occurred to her that the medicine she'd been given was wearing off. "Olivia?" Astrid inquired as Olivia bolted to the nearest lavatory. She followed her. Olivia just barely made it to the toilet before heaving the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. "Olivia, are you alright?" Astrid questioned her again, more seriously this time. The look in her eyes told Olivia she wasn't going to get away with blowing her off. "Yeah," she spoke hesitantly, "I'm fine." She smiled, and wiped her mouth. She turned the faucet on and let cold water run down the sink's drain. Olivia splashed some on her face, and looked into the mirror. Her hair. Oh my God. She hadn't had a chance to see it in two months. Her bangs had grown out, and were level with her chin. Her blonde roots were showing something awful, and there was a distinct line between the two colors at about where the bottom of her ear was. She breathed in heavily trying not to cry. Her hair looked horrible, and it was unnaturally upsetting to her. Under normal circumstances she wouldn't have cared. She would have had it dyed back, but she realized that now, she couldn't, and it looked awful, and her hormones made her want to weep. She felt ridiculous. "Astrid, give me a minute," she wiped her eyes as Astrid left the ladies' room. Astrid was confused, but didn't press Olivia any further.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth was trying to comfort the man who had raised her son. She held his hand, and stroked his arm. She could not, however, hold back her questions. "Your son," she paused, "he passed away?" Walter nodded, "Yes, he was just a young boy." She went on, "But, you developed a cure?" "Yes," Walter answered, "but only after we'd already lost him." Elizabeth thought for a moment, "You seem different. You are not like the man that I remember." Walter felt a catch in his throat. He looked with sad eyes into Elizabeth's deep gaze. "I'm sorry," he told her. She nodded. "I think," she started, but her voice betrayed her emotion, "I think that he would have died had you not taken him." She waited before she continued, "He told me that your wife…that…she gave him a good life." "She did the best she could. She had little help from me. I was hardly there for her," Walter spoke with remorse. "Did you love her?" Elizabeth couldn't help but ask. She had watched as her own husband had grown cold and fallen out of love with her. Walter finally answered her, "Yes, I did, very much. I miss her every day." Tears streaked down both Elizabeth's and Walter's faces. Nina watched, and she listened, but she did not say anything. They heard Astrid's light footsteps as she re-entered the room and took a seat, looking exhausted. It had been a long day. Several minutes later, they heard heavier footsteps moving more quickly, from a different direction.

"Where is Olivia?" Peter came bursting through a set of doors. "Peter?" Astrid was startled and she looked shocked. Nina explained, "The extensive technology that we have developed here allows for accelerated healing," she looked to Elizabeth as she added, "much like on your side. We have also developed advanced medications." Elizabeth watched as Nina exited the waiting area. She had been called into her office. There was something about her that she just did not trust. Peter shifted impatiently. Elizabeth spoke to her son, "She wasn't feeling well. She went that way." Peter nodded and took off in the direction his mother had pointed him.

Olivia rubbed her hands over her face again as she exited the door to the restroom. She watched the tiles as she walked. She was still so worried about Peter. She didn't want to do anything without him. She doubted she could. Peter was running down the hallway, without really watching where he was going. Before he could stop himself, he collided with Olivia. She rubbed her head and groaned, irritated. Then she looked up and saw him. She softened. "Peter!" she said as she wrapped her arms around him. He kissed her forehead, "I told you I was going to be fine." Her fingers stroked his cheek, "I was so worried. I thought I was going to lose you." He looked at her sincerely, "You will never lose me, Dunham." He kissed her deeply, to prove to her that he was hers forever. She pulled away, "Peter, I want to go home." He wrapped his arm around her waist, and she laced hers around his as they walked back to the waiting area.

Every head in the waiting room turned as Olivia and Peter walked in. A smile grew on Walter's face, and he said victoriously to Astrid, "See! I was right!" "Walter! Not now!" Astrid shook her head. A small laugh escaped Elizabeth. Peter noticed his mother sitting next to Walter, and his brow furrowed momentarily before he spoke to Astrid, "I'm taking Olivia home." Walter chuckled, barely able to contain his delight. "Are you coming?" Olivia directed at Elizabeth. Elizabeth shook her head, "No, I am certain that you two need time alone to discuss…everything. I can stay with Walter." Peter looked incredulous, "Are you sure?" He couldn't believe his mother had just said this. She nodded, and they all rose to board the elevator that would take them out of Massive Dynamic.

As they exited the doors to the corporation, they were greeted by a bustling sidewalk and the late afternoon sun. Peter grabbed a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket. Damn he looks good in that jacket. Olivia smiled to herself as she snatched the keys from his hand. He tried to get them back but she held her arm out away from him, shaking her head, "You are not driving. You just got out of surgery." He smirked as he nudged her gently, and she shoved him back. He grabbed her hand and pulled her in the direction of the car. "You've been driving my car?" she asked audaciously, cocking an eyebrow at him. He shrugged and opened the door for her. He opened the door for Walter, his mother, and Astrid as well, ever the gentleman. Olivia again smiled to herself thinking how lucky she was to have him in her life. She turned around and noticed something in her trunk. "What the hell is that?" She looked at Peter. "Oh, uh," he tried to explain the device as concisely as possible, "it's a device that Walter built that is able to read specific energy signatures. We were going to use it to find you, but…" Peter hesitated. His gaze shifted from Olivia to something outside of the window of the moving car. "But she cracked. The other me?" Olivia finished his sentence. "Yeah," Peter breathed heavily. Olivia insisted, "Well, we're taking that thing back to the lab."

Olivia parked her SUV outside of the Kresge building. The passengers exited the vehicle, and Astrid proceeded to aid Walter and Peter in unloading the device and taking it to the basement lab. Olivia phoned Broyles to let him know that she had returned, and to see if he'd made any progress with her alternate. He said he call her later with an update. Elizabeth was looking around in wonderment at how alive the campus was. Olivia pulled Elizabeth aside. Peter glanced back at his mother and the woman he loved. They were talking. He wanted to know what about. He'd ask Olivia later. The door shut quietly behind him.

"Could I ask you a favor?" Olivia shifted her weight from her left foot to her right as she looked earnestly at Elizabeth. Elizabeth tilted her head to the side and gave her a confused look, "I suppose. What do you need?" "I want to make Peter dinner," Olivia spoke nervously, although she didn't quite understand why, "will you go to the store with me?" "Now?" Elizabeth asked. Olivia nodded. "Why are you asking me to help you?" Elizabeth wondered. "Because, you're his mother," Olivia stated. "What was his favorite meal as a child?" She asked Elizabeth. Elizabeth laughed, "Chicken parmigiana, with spaghetti. Let's go." She opened the passenger's side door and got in the car. Olivia climbed back in and they left. As they were driving, Olivia's phone started vibrating. It was Peter. "Could you get that for me?" Olivia said to Elizabeth. Elizabeth picked up Olivia's cell phone and chuckled, "I haven't seen one like this in ages!" Olivia looked at her momentarily, and then her eyes focused on the road. "Hello, Peter?" She answered with a question. "Mom?" There was a beat before Peter continued, "Where are you?" "I'm with Olivia," she told him. "Yeah, I figured that," Peter laughed. "Oh, right," she sounded slightly embarrassed. "Just tell him we'll be back in a bit," Olivia offered. "Olivia says to tell you that we'll be right back," Elizabeth told her son. "Fine," Olivia heard him grumble, and then he hung up.

Thirty minutes later, Olivia once again pulled up to the Kresge building and parked her standard issue SUV. She led Elizabeth down into the lab. "Hey," Olivia said, seeing Peter. "Hey," he responded, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, "we're leaving. Now." She muttered out inaudible sounds in protest, but he had turned her and was pushing her through the door. Elizabeth looked around, and shook her head, "It is so different here, and yet, so similar." "Strange isn't it?" Walter stated rhetorically, with a hint of excitement. Walter grabbed his jar of Red Vines and taking one, offered them to Elizabeth. She accepted with a smile. Astrid was eyeing Peter's mother. Elizabeth knew something. She couldn't resist asking, "Is Olivia…is she pregnant?" Walter bit off the end of the Red Vine he'd been sucking and Gene let out a low moo. Elizabeth looked around, "Is that a cow?" "Yes," Walter replied giddily. Elizabeth looked back to Astrid. She was waiting for her answer. "What makes you ask that?" Elizabeth inquired. "Well, I've never seen Olivia get sick like she did at Massive Dynamic earlier. Also, I know what happened between Olivia and Peter," Astrid explained. Elizabeth crossed her arms and let out a heavy sigh, "Yes." Walter shook his head, "I thought I warned those two that condoms are not one-hundred percent effective!" Astrid sighed, "Walter." Elizabeth laughed. She looked at Astrid, "I think we'd better go now." Astrid nodded and they headed to her car. She knew she was in store for a very uncomfortable evening. She'd seen how Walter and Elizabeth were interacting, and she didn't even want to entertain thoughts of where that might be going. The next time she saw Broyles, she would demand a raise.

Olivia drove again. "How are you? Are you alright?" She was still worried about Peter. "Olivia, I'm fine," he laughed as he reassured her. She on the other hand, did not look well. "I could ask you the same," he pressed her. She shifted in her seat, "I'm fine…just…tired." She was far from fine. She wasn't just tired, she was physically exhausted. She was unbearably nauseated, and she had to pee really badly. To top it all off, she also felt incredibly nervous about what she had to tell Peter. Which is why she was planning on making him a nice dinner and plying him with at least two glasses of wine. Maybe three. She was glad when she pulled into the lot at her apartment building. She got out and grabbed her grocery bag from the back seat. "What's that?" Peter asked curiously. She teased him, "It's a surprise."

She let him into her apartment, and he closed and locked the door behind them. She looked around. She could tell that the other one had been here. She couldn't help but ask, "So, how did you know she wasn't me?" "She's a terrible kisser," he said, deciding on being honest with her. Lying had gotten neither of them any place they'd liked before. She just looked at him, "Good to know." He sputtered out, "That was it, Liv. I swear. Nothing else happened. I promise." She drew him into a sweet, trusting kiss. She pulled back, suddenly remembering how badly she had to pee, and set the bag down on the counter so she could go relieve herself. Two minutes later she came back out and saw Peter standing exactly where she'd left him. "Sit," she ordered. He crossed to her couch and took a seat, expecting her to join him. But she didn't. She went to the kitchen and began pulling the ingredients out of the bag. "Liv? What are you doing?" he asked her. "I," she explained, "am making you dinner." "You don't have to do that," he objected. "I know," she said, and she smiled at him. "Can I at least help you then?" he offered. "No," she balked, "that kind of defeats the purpose." She opened the bottle of red wine. She poured. He sipped. There goes glass number one.

An hour and a half later, they were seated at her table and Peter was enjoying his second glass of wine. She set a plate down in front of him that looked like it had come straight from Italy, and it smelled even better. "Oh, my God," he grinned, "how did you?" "Your mother," she answered his question before he finished asking. He frowned at her. "What?" she asked. "You looked pretty chummy with my mother earlier," he stated. She laughed as she took her seat to his right, "Does that bother you?" He laughed, "Did it bother you when I called Rachel?" She glared, and couldn't conceal the hurt in her tone, "That is completely different. Your mother is not a threat." "Oh, so you think Rachel's a threat?" Peter teased her. She frowned at him. He spoke seriously to her, "Rachel is not a threat. She never has been, and she never will be." Her elbows were on the table, and her chin rested in her hands. He kissed her forehead and continued eating. After about fifteen minutes, she got up and grabbed the wine bottle. Thank God for glass number three.

"So, how is it?" she asked coyly. His plate was half gone, and the gusto with which he'd been devouring it had told her that he was enjoying it immensely, but she still wanted to hear him say it out loud. "It is," he searched for words that would do it justice, "it is out of this world." He laughed at his joke, and she rolled her eyes. She kissed him. It was full of need and tinged with worry. "I love you," she told him again. He broke into a wide smile, "I love you too." He glanced down at her plate. She had barely touched her food. "Are you sure you're alright? You've barely eaten anything," he was genuinely concerned, and she knew she wasn't going to get off with her usual 'I'm fine.' She nodded, but the thought of eating food combined with her anxiety got the better of her. Her nausea overwhelmed her and she rushed into her bathroom. Five minutes later Peter knocked on the door, "Dunham? What's wrong?" He heard her retching again, followed by the toilet flushing. The water ran momentarily as she rinsed her mouth out. "Nothing," she responded, "I'll be out in a minute." She didn't hear him move. She opened the door, and said in all seriousness, "I think you should sit down." His face contorted with his concern, but he sat back down anyway. "I have to tell you something," she paced, and sat. Then she stood and paced again before finally deciding on sitting down. She looked up at him. "Peter, I," her voice caught in her throat, "Peter. I'm pregnant." She immediately looked down, biting her lip. She was met with silence.

Several seconds later, she looked up at him, still nibbling on her lip. He was pale and clearly taken aback. He didn't say anything for a few minutes. He just sat there. Staring at her, and swallowing. Hard. Her eyes shifted back and forth, but his gaze never left her. "I love you, Olivia." She was relieved when she finally heard him speak. She nodded, holding back her tears as best she could. She had to admit to herself that she was at least a little scared. She wasn't prepared for this. This is not how she'd imagined her relationship with Peter. She had pictured a few years of dating, and fighting side by side to protect their world. Her world, the one he'd chosen, for her. Followed by an impromptu proposal and a quiet wedding. Then, maybe after a year or two of blissful marriage, then she would have considered having a child. But not now. She was entirely unprepared for this.

"Come here," he pulled her into his lap, and she wrapped her arms loosely around his shoulders. They stared deeply into each other's eyes for a few moments. He spoke to her again, "I'm sorry. I am so sorry." His voice broke, "I should have come for you sooner. I shouldn't have waited." He was laden with guilt. "No, Peter. You didn't know. You did the right thing," she refuted his remorse. She ran the fingers of her left hand through the hair on the back of his head, and laced the fingers of her right hand in those of his left. She leant in and kissed him passionately. As she did this, she took his left hand, placed it on her abdomen, and held it there. This was his baby she was carrying. His baby was in there. He deepened their kiss by teasing her lips open with his tongue. She felt her insides roar to life, and she groaned. "Peter," she moaned out his name, and he pulled her closer to him.

Her eyes opened, and her gaze fell on the table and the dishes. The mess bothered her. She didn't quite know why, but it did. She pulled back and stood up. She took their dishes to the sink, and as she turned on the water, she felt him behind her. His arms snaked around her and she watched as he washed the dishes with her. She leaned back into him, resting her head on his chest. She could get used to this. She felt right when she was with Peter. He made her feel safe. She closed her eyes. Several seconds later, she heard Peter teasing her, "You'd better not fall asleep on me, Dunham." She smiled and elbowed him the ribs. She felt him laugh, and turned around to face him. She brushed her hips against his suggestively and backed him up against the counter. As he leaned down to kiss her, she turned and walked away, and finished cleaning up. He threw his head back and rubbed a hand over his face.

Suddenly, it occurred to Olivia to check her phone. Broyles was supposed to call her. Nothing. She looked at Peter. He was watching her. She smiled timidly and looked down, again noticing her hair. She bit back a sob, and ran her fingers through it. She looked at Peter again, "I'm going to take a shower." She proceeded to her bedroom, and placed her phone on the nightstand. When Peter didn't follow her she leaned against the door frame. "What are you waiting for, Bishop?" she taunted in a seductive tone. That was it. A split-second later she was against the bathroom wall and Peter's lips were all over hers. He pressed his lips to her neck and sucked. She shuddered. He drug his teeth across her collar bone and gnawed at her shoulder gently. She quivered. She watched, eyes half open, as random bits of clothing hit the ground in the most rapid undress she'd ever experienced.

She pulled his naked body against hers as she stepped into the shower. The water sprayed down on them, and she tenderly caressed his skin, rubbing her thumb around his now mostly healed wound. Her brow furrowed, and his hand went to her chin, and tilted her face up towards his. His lips captured hers in a compassionate, fervent kiss. When they parted, Olivia noticed for the first time how sore she was. She rolled her neck and rubbed it with her hand. Peter turned her slowly and began massaging first her neck, and then her shoulders. He made his way down her back and he heard her grown as the tension left her body. The combination of his hands with the warm water simultaneously soothed her and stirred her insides. She pressed one hand to the wall of the shower for support, and shut the water off with the other. She turned on Peter and pushed him out of the shower and through the bathroom door into her bedroom.

His back hit the mattress and she climbed over him. She attacked his mouth with her tongue. She moved from his lips to his neck and down his chest, biting down into his tender flesh every now and again, occasionally sucking to relieve the pressure caused by her teeth. He began groaning loudly, and sensually. Olivia's phone began vibrating on the nightstand, but they neither heard it, nor cared to answer it if they had. Sounds that Olivia could feel building in his core poured unrestrained from his mouth as she slid down onto him. She rocked her hips hard into his, pulled up, and pushed back down with force. The sensation caused both to moan. As she did it again, he thrust his hips upward to meet hers, and his arms flew out to his sides. His fingers pressed into the mattress, gripping the sheets tightly. She increased her momentum, and angled her hips to allow him in as deeply as humanly possible. "Olivia. Oh, Olivia," he panted and moaned out her name and she bit back a howl as she groaned. She ground into him faster and faster, his hips rising to meet hers each time, as they both neared their climax. When they released, she was orgasming so intensely that she dug the fingers of the hands that had been roaming his chest deeply into his skin. She heard him whimper between gasps of breath beneath her as she shrieked with pleasure. She groaned loudly as she rolled off of him, completely spent.

He rolled into her, kissing her ardently. When their lips parted, Olivia rolled onto her side, pulling Peter's arm around her. His hand rested on her abdomen momentarily before he began stroking his fingers across it. He let out a heavy breath, "You need to be seen by a doctor." "I know," she breathed out, "tomorrow." She was tired. She reached for her phone. One new voicemail. She dialed her inbox, entered her code, and listened as Broyles explained that he'd gotten absolutely nothing out of her alternate. He had decided to keep her in the prison indefinitely. Olivia sighed. "It's going to be okay, Olivia. Everything is going to be fine," Peter kissed the back of her head soothingly. She nodded, and a yawn escaped her mouth. Moments later she had drifted into a deep slumber, and Peter smiled as he watched her until he fell asleep.

Olivia woke to an empty bed. She heard Peter in her kitchen, and smiled. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand: 9:30. She grimaced. Peter had let her oversleep. She was half glad that he had. She got out of bed and crossed to her closet. As she dressed, she realized how good it felt to be in her own clothing again. She exited her bedroom. "Good morning, beautiful," Peter smiled at her. She returned his smile, "You should've woken me." He shook his head and gave her that tongue-in-cheek grin that was so characteristically his. "You want something to eat?" he asked her. Her smile faded and she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. She shook her head. "Sorry," she heard Peter half whisper. She shook her head again, "It's not your fault." "I know," he told her, "but still…" She kissed his cheek. "We should get going," she said reaching for her keys. "Ah ah ah," he said as he snatched her keys up, wagging his finger at her. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I called Broyles, insisted on having the morning off. I'm taking you to a doctor," Peter explained. She couldn't exactly argue with him.

"Oh, and one more thing," Peter reached into the pocket of his jacket and she watched as he descended to his knee. "Peter?" He opened the small box. "Oh my God," she gasped loudly. There it was, right in front of her, the most beautiful diamond engagement ring she had ever seen. Two and a half carats, side stones, platinum band, and a hell of a lot of sparkle. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. She wanted him on her level. She saw them as equals. "How did you even? When did you?" she couldn't form a complete question she was so astounded. "One of my many 'weird connections'," he teased her. She looked expectantly from the ring, then up to Peter. "Well," she said. "You haven't said yes yet," he stated. She retorted, "You haven't asked the question." "Fine," he groused. He looked into her eyes, "Olivia…" "Yes!" she blurted out eagerly, followed by, "Sorry." He laughed at her as he slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. "Again, stealing my thunder," he quipped. He opened the door, and followed her out. She had a sly look in her eye as they walked down the hall of her building. "What?" he questioned her. "I'm not going to have to worry about Big Eddie sending his guys for this am I?" she teased, waving her fingers at him flirtatiously. "Oh, very funny, now look who's got jokes," he shook his head and she laughed lacing her fingers in his.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Something about doctors' offices made her uneasy. She tapped her fingers on the armrest of the chair in the pristine waiting room. It was decorated nicely and looked warm and inviting. Nonetheless, it did not stop the nervous bouncing of her legs. Peter looked at her, "Would you relax?" She studied him. He sat very calmly, hands folded in his lap, surveying the other patients. She envied his state of serenity. She felt his hand grasp hers and she settled a little. She stared at the ring on her finger and smiled, relaxing even more. That is, until she heard a nurse call out, "Dunham?" "Come on," Peter tugged her hand as she stood up and they followed the nurse. Her nerves welled up and she vomited into a wastebasket. Peter held her hair out of the way and gently rubbed her back. When she righted herself again she saw the nurse jotting something down on her clipboard.

They followed her back, and as they did, Olivia swore she heard one of the women make a glib comment to another about "the newlyweds." She glared. The nurse led her to a bathroom and asked her to pee into a cup. She hated having to do that, it was a nuisance. When she was done she handed the sample to the nurse, who then took them into a room. The doctor came in a few minutes later and proceeded to ask Olivia endless questions. When he'd finished, he told them that he'd like to take a blood sample to check something. "Check what?" Peter asked with clear concern in his voice. Olivia answered, "I think he wants to check for anemia." She avoided Peter's gaze. The doctor nodded, had the nurse draw Olivia's blood, and then went to check on other patients while he waited for the results of her blood test.

"Okay, what did I miss?" Peter pressed Olivia. "Nothing, it's just," she started, but she didn't know how to explain. "What?" he wanted an answer. "I am anemic, Peter," she told him, "but it's not a big deal. He'll probably just prescribe an iron supplement. It's completely normal and nothing to be worried about." He was not pleased. She sighed heavily, "While I was over there, your father," he grimaced, and she corrected, "the Secretary, he had them run some tests. That's how I knew about the anemia." He waited before he responded, "You're sure that's all he did?" "Yes, Peter. He didn't want anything to happen. He wanted to use the baby, for something. I don't know what, exactly," she told him. He shook his head. She could tell that he still felt guilty. "Peter, it's not your fault," she reassured him, rubbing his arm. He leaned over to kiss her, but was interrupted by the doctor opening the door, medical chart in hand, looking over the results of Olivia's blood test.

"So," he stated, "you are in fact anemic, and you'll need an iron supplement, but other than that, everything else is right where it should be. You'll need to increase your intake of fluids to prevent dehydration due to your morning sickness, and I'm also going to have the nurse give you an ultrasound to gauge how your baby is developing, but after that, you're free to leave." He smiled warmly at them, and as he left the room, he added, "It was very nice meeting you, Ms. Dunham." The nurse came back in and flicked on the ultrasound machine. Olivia unbuttoned her blouse and unzipped her pants, per the request of the nurse. She leaned back and looked at Peter, who was standing beside her, holding her hand. She watched as the nurse grabbed a tube of gel, and squeezed it onto her abdomen. Olivia was expecting it to be cold, but instead it was warm. She watched as the nurse spread the gel around with the instrument and the monitor's screen flashed grey, black and white, revealing her insides. "Alright," the rather bubbly nurse said, "let's see if we can find your baby." Several seconds later the nurse delightedly exclaimed, "There we are!" Olivia's eyes flitted to the screen as she heard the rapid "thump thump thump" of her baby's heartbeat. She again looked at Peter. His eyes were glued to the screen and he was beaming from ear to ear. She'd never seen him look so happy, and she smiled to herself. She heard the nurse saying that everything looked perfect, and the baby was developing as expected. Olivia studied the screen, noticing how tiny their baby looked, almost like a peanut. She watched, somewhat mesmerized by the steady beating of her baby's heart, at one-hundred fort-seven beats per minute.

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**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Fringe, or any of its characters. However, anything that appears in this story that has not occurred in the series is of my own creation. This was created purely for entertainment, and in no way for profit.**

**((and yes, when I write this, I do actually see Peter & Olivia in graphic detail))**


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